Bad Company
by FollowingCaligula
Summary: Following the liberation of the Dam from the Legion, NCR and House, Courier Six set off alone to further weaken the already crippled Legion. Three years later he returns with new allies in tow and a new war brewing on the horizon. Arcade/M!Courier.
1. The Prologue

Few things are law in the Mojave. Anything that is, is an unwritten law; they are the ones that go without saying, and everyone practices them whether they realize it or not. First rule, if someone takes your shit-you go and get it back, or you hire someone else to do it. Second, if someone wrongs you-maybe she killed your wife, or he raped your son or daughter or both, or sold them into slavery- you kill them, or you hire someone else to do it. Third, nothing after death is yours. Not your home, not your belongings, not even your body. If you have family, it is theirs-and hopefully they'll respect you enough to burn you or bury you. If you have none, it is your friends, and hopefully they'll do the same. And if you have no one, it belongs to whoever finds you-and you'll be lucky if they don't violate your corpse.

These, at least, were the rules most in the Mojave lived by. And these were the rules the Mojave would have continued to live by, if it hadn't been for that one fateful day on the Hoover Dam. A young man, face covered in dirt, brush gun on his back and knives in his hands, stormed the Dam and ousted both the NCR and the Legion. He lead an army of Securitrons like angels into the gates of hell and wiped out Legionaries, then promptly turned around and served one General Lee Oliver a _Get The Fuck Out of Here_ card. It was a slap to the face of the NCR-not that they did just pack up, no; after negotiations, Vegas remained independent and NCR remained put, but the insult was plain as day and they could do nothing about it. The young Courier brought with him a seemingly endless supply of robots to back himself up, and they worked well.

Law came to the Mojave after that, but it wasn't NCR or Caesar's-it was Courier Six's, a young man named Ken who crawled out of the grave and into annals of history. Arcade remembered him well because, well-how the fuck could you forget someone like that? He came in like a maelstrom with a silver tongue as sharp as knives and a plan that was fool proof. Hell, Arcade fought alongside Ken, following him into the Fort, and he still didn't know Ken's full plan up until the end. Arcade would be lying, though, if he said that he'd have done it for anyone. He wouldn't have, but there was something about Ken, something chaotically beautiful, that would make him walk to the ends of the Earth if he had to-and he'd do it with a smile on his face.

Of course, what Arcade wanted to do and what Ken wanted to do were two completely different things, and Arcade hadn't settled on his Walks With Crazy Sumbitch ideals until after Ken had up and vanished one morning without so much as a _sayonara, asshole._ Arcade didn't blame him. Ken wasn't satisfied with defeating the Legion at the Dam, he wanted to pursue the fuckers all the way through their empire. But even with his reputation as high as it was the NCR wouldn't join him, and Ken didn't feel okay marching a large army of Securitrons into the eastern wasteland. He wanted Arcade to go with him, but Arcade was terrified. After all, just because the Legion had been defeated at the Dam that didn't mean they wouldn't come back striking, and they _hated_ the eager young courier for what he'd done. It was a suicide mission not even Boone would undertake, and he hated the Legion more than Ken did.

It was because of those reasons that Ken and Arcade fought, and it was because of that fight that Ken woke up early, left their bed, grabbed some bare essentials and left. He left no note, no goodbye message, and not even with Yes Man. Just like that, Courier Six was gone from Arcade's life the same way that he had come in-betrayed, alone and determined.

Everyone assumed Ken was gone for good, and they would have packed up and headed off themselves if Yes Man hadn't reminded them that they had place of their own to run. Cass, Boone, Veronica and Arcade had been left in charge of the strip and all it's surrounding areas. The Mojave was under their jurisdiction and the five of them, Yes Man included, became the ruling bodies. Arcade wasn't entirely satisfied with how things panned out, but he was happier than he would have been under Mr. House or NCR, and he would never regret the day he, Ken and Rex took on the Legion. Independent Vegas wasn't perfect, but it was better than all the alternatives, and being in a position of such power gave him influence with many important people from Freeside to the NCR all the way down to little shanties like Sloan.

The influence also came with a bigger bonus: Arcade and the Remnants no longer had to hide their Enclave history. The NCR couldn't touch them for it, Yes Man and the others didn't care and Arcade was fairly certain that Ken hadn't informed the Legion. It was almost like a gift, Arcade was safe and he had Ken to thank for that. The only problem was that Arcade no longer had any way to thank him for what he did.

It wasn't to remain that way, though. Three years of peace and no news from the East meant big trouble. To anyone else anywhere else, peace might have been good. To the leaders of the Vegas strip and their allies across the Mojave, it was always an omen. Peace in the Mojave wasn't ever actually peace. It was breathing room at best, a grace period-and for better or for worse, the Mojave's grace period was almost up.


	2. Homecoming

A/N: Initiate Stanton was never given a first name in game, and I can't find one for him anywhere else. For that reason, he will be called Avery- the same first name of his voice actor. If you know of one he has and are reading this, please tell me. Thanks.

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><p>Bryan wouldn't admit it, but the bunker terrified him just a little. All he could think of as the Paladin-Yerxa had been his name-lead him through the halls to someone called Elder McNamara, was of the Enclave. The past six years had been far too stressful for him, and the bunker evoked harsh flashbacks.<p>

He kept his mouth shut though, and focused on what was lying ahead and behind. Ken, hopefully, had already made it to New Vegas. Bryan had had to leave Fawkes and Dogmeat in the front entrance to the bunker. It was strange not having them right by his side.

Still, he had made a promise, and the sooner this was over with the better. Elder Lyons had trusted this to him and he planned to see the delivery through, even if the place intimidated him. He wondered about his father, what he would do; knowing his dad, he would have carried on and delivered the message. That was what Bryan planned to do.

Out here, though, he missed home. He missed Sarah and the Pride, Gob, Three Dog and oh god did he _especially_ miss Leo. Leo had elected to stay behind when Bryan chose to leave some time ago, and Bryan couldn't help but wonder as he passed through those corridors, was Leo missing him? Bryan was 26 now, and he'd been gone a good couple of months. Leo had promised to wait, and Andy and Jenny had promised to take care of him and watch over him. It was kind of paranoid to assume Leo was already chasing someone else, but he couldn't help it. Bryan wished he'd never left, though; after all he had been through, he was looking forward to settling down in Megaton and living his life with Leo, Fawkes and Dogmeat (with the occasional fending off of an Enclave remnant, raider, super mutant or whatever attack).

That was before Ken showed up. Ken was something of a self contained maelstrom. He swept in, he kicked ass, he ordered a drink and he started chatting Bryan up about what he knew about the Enclave running around and what was this Talon Company business and why the fuck were the super mutants here so murderous.

Maybe Ken knew who Bryan was when he sat at the barstool next to him. Maybe he didn't. But either way, Bryan was stuck helping him, and Bryan was going to keep his promise to Elder Lyons.

Yerxa held out his gun to signal Bryan to stop moving, and stepped closer to a large desk in the middle of the room they were in. "Elder McNamara," he looked back at Bryan, then ahead again. "This wastelander says he carries a message from Elder Lyons."

Elder McNamara furrowed his brows and leaned forward, beckoning Bryan to come closer. "Dismissed, Yerxa. Thank you for bringing him to me." Yerxa nodded and left the room as Bryan stepped forward. He clutched the holotape close, skin crawling. "How do you know Elder Lyons?"

"Let's just say we've had a lot of close dealings together." Bryan held out the holotape. "This has a good few hours of updates on what's going on over there." He bit his lip, then looked around the room. "Your base looks like an Enclave base."

"What?" McNamara sounded somewhat offended. If the Enclave had been anything here like they had been back home, he wasn't surprised.

"Back on the East Coast," Bryan explained. "The Brotherhood over there has taken over some building called an Octogon or a Heptagon or something. There aren't any bunkers or Vaults they live in. This looks more like the Enclave's. Which is mostly destroyed now, by the way, but this is definitely more what it looks like."

"I see," McNamara was silent for a moment, then gestured to the door. "You said there was a few hours worth of material on here. I hope you won't mind if I ask you to stay the night, so I can listen to them and discuss them with you?"

"Well, I actually have somewhere to be. I have to catch up to Ken." Bryan admitted. "And I left my friends in your entrance. But Sarah Lyons should be here soon. She promised she'd follow up with the Pride. Of course there's also the matter of worrying they all got wiped out trying to help some straggler, but you never know."

"Why on earth would they-"

"You know what?" Bryan held up his hands. "That was a bad joke. But I really think you should hear it from them. The Pride is the best of the best there, they'll definitely be here in one piece."

Elder McNamara nodded. "Well, then. Uh, you mentioned something about Ken?"

"Small world?" Bryan asked. "Yeah. Said he's known here as Courier Six or something? Sounds like some kind of super hero alias but I don't really have room to speak. They call me the Vault Dweller over there. Or the Lone Wanderer, if you like that better, sounds a lot cooler."

"Do you always talk this much?" McNamara asked. Bryan chuckled.

"Only when I'm nervous." He nodded. "Uhm, could you possibly point me in the direction of New Vegas? Maybe offer advice, I have no idea how to get past all those scorpions."

"Oh, uh, I can send someone with you. It's about time to check in with Vegas, anyway. I'll send the Stantons with you." McNamara stood and went around the desk, approaching Bryan, gesturing towards the door. "It shouldn't be too hard to locate the medical office or the quartermaster. I'll send word you're allowed to be given full access to any supplies there." He put his hand on Bryan's shoulder. "Thank you for bringing this to me."

Bryan smiled softly. "You're welcome, Elder."

* * *

><p>"How long has he been in there?" Cass asked, leaning up against the door outside of the bathroom. Ken had come back to the Strip, and he'd gone right to the showers. He hadn't even bothered coming to see Arcade. Arcade had to find out from Boone that he was even back.<p>

"A couple of hours." Boone answered for Arcade. The older man was crouched outside of the door, listening for any signs of life from inside. Boone jerked his head back to the kitchen. "Come eat, Cass. They're going to need some time to talk."

Cass nodded and pushed back, patting Arcade on the head. "You should go in, talk to him. It doesn't take two or three hours to wash your ass, no matter how dirty you are."

Arcade took a deep breath in, nodding and standing. She had a point. And they were going to have to talk sooner or later, that was a given. It bothered him that Ken was upset over something like this, that he wouldn't have come to see Arcade. Even if he wanted to just be clean before he did so, Arcade still wanted to see Ken, badly. He could have dealt with the grime.

Ken probably knew Arcade was standing outside of the bathroom door-he had a creepy sixth sense like that-and Arcade wasn't getting anywhere by pacing around waiting for him to open it. So, taking a deep breath, he opened the door, slid in, and closed it quietly behind himself. He didn't hear any water running.

Ken was sitting in the tub in the farthest back stall, knees pulled up to his chest and water barely sudsy anymore. It wasn't the fact that he was naked that made Arcade stop and admire him, it was the fact that he'd barely changed out in the wasteland. His skin was a bit darker from all his time in the sun, and he had a scar on his lower lip running down to his chin. It was hardly visible, though. His hair, too, was much longer; he'd probably rinsed off all the dirt and grime and grease before taking a bath, because it was wet and tied back into a small bun. It was also lighter than he remembered, with streaks of white through the toffee-brown.

As soon as Arcade approached him, Ken became a lot more interested in his bath. "Get out, I'm not decent." He joked weakly. Arcade laughed but didn't leave, instead shrugging off his jacket-he still wore his Followers coat, he didn't know why-and pulling a chair up against the wall. "Everyone else is eating dinner."

"You should probably join them."

"Nah. Not hungry. Besides, I'm sure they'll save me some." Ken nodded. "Why didn't you come see me?"

Ken frowned and grabbed his washcloth and box of Abraxo cleaner. Arcade briefly pondered if that stuff was actually safe to bathe in. Plenty of people had done it, but most of the old movies he'd watched, people bathed with bars of soap. Then again a bar of soap was hardly something that would have survived the nuclear apocalypse. "Sorry."

"That's all you have to say?" Arcade clenched his fist. "Sorry? You were gone for three years, Ken. You took off on a suicide mission into the fucking middle of hell and all you've got to say to me is 'sorry'?"

"What else do you want me to say?" Ken asked, scrubbing his knee like it was the most interesting thing to do in the world. "Oh, I see, I'm supposed to feel bad because I decided not to stick around here and instead chose to go wandering the wasteland and find something better to do. Is that it?"

"Ken, that's not-"

"Last I checked, Gannon," Ken turned to look at him. "I asked you to go with me. We didn't have to cross the Legion. We could have taken a different route. You didn't have to go. You told me no."

Arcade bit his lip as Ken went back to scrubbing himself. "I made my choice, Arcade. And you made yours. I wasn't going to stay, you weren't going to go. And now I'm back, and I have a feeling you're not going to let me live it down."

Arcade's bit his tongue and hunched down, elbows on his knees. "I was worried about you, Ken."

"After what I've been through, you really don't need to worry about me." Ken replied. "I can take care of myself just-"

"Hold the fucking phone, who are you?" Ken's head shot up and Arcade turned around to face the door.

"Oh, that sounds like trouble." Ken reached over and unplugged the tub, standing up. He grabbed the pants he'd intended to put on and slipped them on and Arcade handed him his coat. They left the bathroom to be greeted by the sight of Cass sticking the business end of a teals cannon Arcade had been working on into the face of a man not nearly as tall as her. He was flanked on either side by two people in power armor, undoubtedly Brotherhood of Steel; a large Super Mutant wearing the rags of a Vault suit was behind him, and a dog stood between him and the Paladin to his right, growling at Cass.

"Oh, good fucking god, Cass," Ken scoffed, moving up to her. He pushed the barrel of the cannon down. "This is Bryan. He's on our side."

"Really, now." Cass stepped back, clearly not convinced. "And what's with the power grunts?"

"Fuck you," came a female voice, from the right side, slightly muffled. She holstered her weapon and reached up, pulling her helmet off. The person to the left of Bryan did the same.

Veronica scoffed. "Watkins."

"Actually, _Veronica_," the other woman said, tucking her helmet under her arm. "That's _Paladin Stanton_." She sneered at the other woman.

"Stanton?" Veronica turned to look at the man to Bryan's left. "Really, Avery? Okay, I know you can't be picky down there, bro, but please tell me that is a joke."

Avery dropped his head as Ken groaned. "Okay, down, girl." He gestured to the others. "Guys, this is Bryan. He's from the East, on the coast. That's Fawkes behind him, that's Dogmeat." He pointed to the others. "You've officially met Veronica. Cass is the trigger happy one. Boone, here, is ex-NCR First Recon. The ghoul is Raul, the dog is Rex, and this…this is Arcade." Cass stepped back and Arcade reached up, putting his arm around Ken's waist and a hand on his other shoulder.

"You guys can go back to eating dinner, or whatever. Avery, Melissa, Fawkes, you guys can join them, or feel free to wander the suite, relax, whatever. Arcade," Ken put his hand on the older man's, looking at him, "can you take Bryan to see Yes Man? I need to get dressed." Arcade nodded, but before he could pull away Ken leaned in and kissed his chin. It was certainly a turn for the weird for Arcade, considering a few moments before they seemed ready to have a fight. But he did as Ken asked, leading Bryan to the pent house. He figured he'd have plenty of time to talk to Ken later that night.


	3. Bad Blood, Bad Tide

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the lack of action. I know this story's a bit slow paced, and I thank you for your patience.

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><p>Colonel Autumn leaned back in his seat, staring the Legate down like he was too good to be true. If what he was saying was true, Courier Six and the Vault Dweller had just made this far too easy for them. Chasing them through the Legion's territory, or up through Canada, was like chasing a tornado on foot; they moved too fast, left too many of their men dead. Having them in the same spot, well, that was like cornering a bloatfly in a crate and sealing it with C4.<p>

Lanius wasn't as convinced, and he wasn't amused at Autumn's amusement over the situation. This Vault Dweller or Lone Wanderer or whatever, he might be Autumn's prize, but he posed no threat to the Legate. It was the Courier who had tricked him back to the East to deal with traitors that didn't even exist. It was the Courier who chased him and his men back to their own lands. And he didn't do it with some fragile fucking humans in power armor; he brought with him an army of robots. Courier fucking Six was who Legate Lanius was after and he wasn't seeing an easy way to get to him, now that he was safely back in Vegas.

"I don't really see what the problem is," Autumn insisted, leaning over the desk that was "his". It wasn't permanent but for as long as they stayed there, it was his desk. "We have them cornered. We have them _together._"

"We have them surrounded by walls that would take weeks to tear down and a Securitron army large enough us and anyone behind us out." Lanius put his hands on the desk and leaned over the older man. "We've chased them right into their own fucking safe haven. Don't you get that?"

Autumn didn't. Perhaps the Legion, with their skirts and their shitty football helmets and their chainsaws, were too scared to be of use after all. They refused the use of most modern weaponry. They ignored better armor in favor of showing a little leg. The Legion were a people going backwards fast, and they were too stupid to realize it. "Mr. Lanius, I-"

"Legate." Lanius corrected him. He wasn't a mister. He abhorred such plebian titles.

"Legate, whatever. Perhaps you've forgotten, but my men come equipped with the best armor and weapons that pre-war tech could offer. We come prepared to deal with nuisances like these. Those walls will crumble in minutes and their Securitron "army" is nothing but a platoon of fancy tin cans compared to what the Enclave has to offer. Vegas will be flattened and I won't even bother to say 'I told you so.'" Lanius stood up straight. Autumn couldn't see his face, but that didn't matter-it was all about his body language. "If you feel you aren't up to the task, by all means-go. Turn around, and go home. We'll take it from here."

Lanius ground his teeth together, clenched his fists tightly. Autumn was nothing but a pretentious asshole. It would be glorious to blow his brains out once this was done-that was, if they lived to see the end of it. The Enclave could boast all it wanted. The Legion would see this through to the end-and they alone would stand victorious.

These thoughts satiated him, soothed his anger, and he smirked behind his mask and stalked from the room. The only thing that soothed his rage these days was daydreaming about the image of Colonel Autumn's smug face blown open by a gun, or ground to shreds by a chainsaw. He relished the fact that the day might come soon where he was the one to tear it open.

As he returned to his quarters opposite the building, his thoughts turned to another matter-Courier Six, and what to do with him when Lanius finally had him. He had long since planned that moment. No longer was he satisfied with simply destroying the man. Killing him wouldn't solve the same problems killing Autumn would. No; Lanius had long since decided that death was far too dignified for him. He had a special collar saved for Courier Six. Exactly what would happen to him after that, Lanius hadn't decided-perhaps he would castrate him and make him live as a prostitute, or perhaps he would leave him locked up. His skills would be useful, and parading him around in front of the rest of the slaves would quell many possible uprisings. Seeing your once might hero in chains always did cut a certain blow to moral.

Of course, that was if they even lived. Lanius wasn't going to be idealistic or greedy. He'd long since learned pride was a far deadlier disease than any waste rot. Those who got too far ahead of themselves always learned well enough what happened, and Lanius always made sure to pay careful attention to those who fucked up before him. Caesar had been weak and diseased, his mind ridden with tumors. Vulpes had fled, choosing to live a coward's life rather than accept that Caesar was gone and Lanius was the new lord-and he would die like a coward, trampled under the feet of the Legion or sought out by the Courier. Vulpes no longer had allies. His ties to the Legion were cut. He would remember that one day, and he would realize too late what he had lost.

Satiated at last, the Legate laid his head down. Tomorrow would bring spoils of a battle. A skirmish, a sign to let the Mojave knew who was there-and a warning to Courier Six that his days may very well be numbered.

-0-

Ken rose early and headed to the kitchen. Having a safe, cool place to rest his head once more was great, and though he was still far too sour to admit it, it was nice to be able to lay down with Arcade again. The feel of being held, having that shell around him, it was like being small again and sitting in his father's lap during storms, or laying between his parents late at night when he couldn't sleep. He felt at home.

And it wasn't just Arcade. He had missed his friends and the whole of the Strip while he was gone. He had gone to see plenty of folks before coming back to the Lucky 38, and he was shocked at some of the changes that had happened. Goodsprings was larger, and more spread out. Sunny had settled down with a lovely young man who was ex-NCR, and Doc Mitchell was helping play grandfather to her daughter and her son. Winning the war at the Dam aside, he was never so honored as to find out she'd named her son after him. Primm was doing better business now that the Bison Steve was cleaned out and made inhabitable once more. The Vikki & Vance was still the only casino opened, but travelers still needed a place to stay. The Mojave Express was a booming business as well. Ken had to turn down his old job, though.

Most surprising to him, though, were places like Sloan and Novac. Sloan was once barely surviving with the Deathclaws inhabiting the Quarry. Now it was larger than ever; though it still mostly supplied the NCR, it also supplied the Strip, and concrete from the Quarry kept the Dam in tiptop shape.

And Novac, well…though Novac wasn't that high a priority for the Legion on it's way to take the Dam, it still sustained damage in the battle. Followers of Jason Bright that hadn't made to his supposed promised land had arrived shortly after to help rebuild it, and it was still small, if a bit more booming. Ken was proud of that, too. But he didn't stop to admire the sights of Novac when he passed through-he stopped to see Manny, to check up on him, and to get a few good days' romp out of him. He did feel bad, but Manny said he was single, and so was Ken. Heck, he still was-he wouldn't forgive Arcade _that_ easily for what he'd said and done the night Ken had decided to leave.

The guilt hadn't made the week with Manny any less satisfying, though, and he had come back. Arcade would learn about it in time, when they talked again, if they talked again. He had long since resolved not to keep him in the dark about those sorts of things.

Ken was too lost in his thoughts and memories surrounding what had happened to notice Arcade had gotten up and snuck into the kitchen behind him. The older man snaked his arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder, sending chills through Ken's body. "Morning, beautiful."

"Mmmhmm, morning to you, too." Ken leaned his head back and put his hand on Arcade's wrist. "Hungry?"

"Not really," Arcade closed his eyes, breathed in the other's scent. He'd missed this. "Why, are you?"

"I thought I'd head down to the Tops, get something to eat there." Ken admitted as he pulled away to set the bottle of water he'd been drinking from down. When he turned around, Arcade was giving him a strange look. "I would've left a note this time?" He joked weakly. Arcade shook his head.

"Don't say that," he rubbed his forehead. He didn't need to be reminded of those stressful first days. Ken scoffed and moved back to him, putting his hands on Arcade's hips and giving him a quick kiss.

"You're free to join me." He offered. "I could use the company." Arcade nodded, and Ken kissed him again. "C'mon. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

He pulled away and grabbed Arcade's hand, leading him back to the bedroom. "Let's blow this what?"

"Popsicle stand. I dunno, it's something I heard out in the-" he stopped in the middle of the hall, thinking. "Huh. I dunno where I heard that."

"Probably read it in a book," Arcade joked. He took to leading Ken to the room, now, and once there they didn't dally; Arcade moved to the wardrobe and began rummaging through it and trying to figure out what would be appropriate. "Are we just going to the Tops, or are we going to go out to Freeside or somewhere else?"

"Might go see Usanagi," Ken said. He dumped his duffle bag onto the bed. "So you probably shouldn't wear something like, a field hand's outfit or something." Arcade nodded and grabbed some old, slightly patchy merc wear he'd picked up a while back. He'd gotten it at Mick & Ralph's, and Mick had called it something like a merc troublemaker outfit or something. It still provided light enough protection and wasn't too terrible to look at.

Ken settled on wanderer's gear. It was light, with a patchy hooded jacket and boots. It was a bit stained and had obviously been patched up recently, but it looked nice on him and Arcade admired that he wasn't going too dressed up. He watched as he grabbed an old slave scarf and wrapped it around his head, then reached for sunglasses and stuck them in his pocket. "You won't fucking believe how hard it is to get decent shades in the Capital Wasteland." Ken complained as he reached out again and took Arcade's hand.

Arcade listened to Ken go on about the Capital Wasteland. It sounded like hell, in all honesty, with so many landmarks gone and raiders and completely different super mutants. Most of the ones Arcade had met here were fairly civilized. Even the nightkin sounded like polite company compared to the ones on the east coast. That, of course, was just the beginning of it. He talked on and on about the hells of the place, pausing occasionally to make a joke or small talk with someone he knew on the Strip, and went on like this until they were seated in the Tops Theater.

"Man, it's been so long since I've been in here," Ken mused, looking around. "Is Tommy Torini still running the show here?"

Oh, yeah, he's alive and kicking. Or dancing, I guess." Ken giggled at this and Arcade felt a stroke of pride. Seeing that smile lit up his world brighter than the lights of Vegas. "It's great, we should come see them sometime. The show's nice."

Ken nodded, settling into his seat as he looked around. The place had changed; it seemed more pre-war now, with a few waiters and waitresses milling around. The place also seemed cleaner, too. Swank and the rest of the Chairmen were doing a much better job without Benny. Everyone, it seemed, was doing a much better job now. Maybe he shouldn't have come back. He was terrified to think he might be the one to ruin Vegas' peace by returning to the Strip.

"So, uhm," he tapped the table, waiting for their waitress to return. "How about you? How's…how's everything been since…?"

"Uhm," Arcade shrugged. "Just, you know…same. Same thing day in and day out. Weekly meetings, keeping better ties with the NCR. Working things out day by day."

"Cool, cool, I…I see you guys are keeping things pretty neat here."

"Yeah, we are."

A question that had been digging at the back of Ken's mind suddenly found it's way to his lips. "Sooooo…are you seeing anyone?"

Arcade almost choked on his drink. "I-what? No, I…" Arcade caught himself. Even though he knew what he wanted to say, he couldn't bring himself to say it. He wasn't even sure their relationship _had_ been on hold when Ken left, but he guessed this was confirmation. He wondered if Ken had been seeing people, who he'd been fooling around with. Arcade guessed this changed things but it still seemed strange. It became worse when he realized that he couldn't say any of the things he wanted to. Being honest and saying _no, I was waiting for you_-that just sounded creepy. And making a joke-_no, what do you mean seeing anyone? You mean I could've been getting laid this whole time and no one told me?_-the meaning could be completely misconstrued. Whether they'd been together or not, Arcade wasn't sure he was ready to hear if Ken had been with other guys while he was in the East. "No."

"Oh," Ken nodded again, lowering his eyes to his drink. "I…oh. Okay."

Arcade breathed in, then reached over and took Ken's hand. "Look. I just…I didn't really have time to bother with any of that. And no one…god, no, it sounds wrong but no one was right. You know? I just. I didn't see a reason to." Ken looked away and didn't respond. Arcade felt like he'd ruined the good mood between the two of them, but it was the truth, at least partially. Even if Ken had had flings, Arcade hadn't, because he didn't have the time. He didn't have the free hours to waste fooling around with other guys. Maybe waiting for Ken to return sounded creepy and obsessive, but he had been-of course, that was in between helping run the Mojave and trying aid the Followers. They were still a family to him, regardless of where he resided now. That much, he felt, he owed back, especially after all they'd done for him.

The mood lingered and they ate in silence, Ken barely looking up from his plate and Arcade playing with his food. There were many questions he wanted to ask Ken but he couldn't muster the courage to break the awkward silence between them. It wasn't until after they were done eating and had left that Ken broke his stoic character, grabbed Arcade's hand and began dragging him along towards the entrance to Freeside.

"Come on," he said, slowing down to a pace that Arcade could keep up with.

"Where are we going?"

Ken shrugged. "Out. I wanna go see some things. I wanna check up on some people."

"Oh. I…okay. Uh…are we going somewhere in particular?" Ken shook his head.

"Just going to walk around a little bit. Maybe go visit Usanagi, like I said. Go see some old friends who live near here." Arcade smiled a bit to himself. At least Ken wasn't taking off on his own to parts unknown, and they were no longer caught up in an awkward silence.


End file.
